


similar Afflictions

by Alex_of_Asgaard



Series: Home life [1]
Category: Outlast, Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Blood Kink, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face Slapping, Hybristophilia, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Last chapter is the good one, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Suicide, Outlast: Whistleblower, Smut, because it's the only choice, not an actual suicide attempt though, really - Freeform, sin - Freeform, that means sexual attraction to murderers/rapists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:17:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_of_Asgaard/pseuds/Alex_of_Asgaard
Summary: well, I guess not reallysimilarbut at least compatible.inspired by the fact that I'm trash and like to obsess over a thing long after it's relevant





	1. prologue

 

**prologue**

 

you scratched anxiously at your wrist, the sleeves of your shirt irritating your tender skin. you tried to push your mind away from it, choosing instead to focus on the bright screen in front of you. nothing new --or rather, nothing particularly interesting-- had happened recently, so you found the small silver scars lining your wrist extremely hard to ignore.

"its a shame they caught that Gluskin guy...then at least there'd be something to read about..."

you felt a twinge of guilt as soon as the thought hit you.

you admit, you had kept a fairly close eye on the Gluskin case as it was happening, telling yourself at first that it was out of self preservation --how could you protect yourself from an attack if you didn't learn all the bloody details?-- but after a while that excuse no longer really worked, so you instead told yourself that it was just a morbid curiosity. Though, soon that didn't work either. reading about what had happened made you sick --you had, at one point, found leaked pictures of some of the crime scenes and almost vomited from the sheer brutality of it all-- but they also entranced you.

 hands grabbing you from behind

 Teeth, hard on your neck

 A deep voice breathing in your ear

You shook you head slightly, attempting to derail that train of thought. You decided it would be best if you maybe stepped away from your computer for a while. you suddenly became intensely aware of the fact that you hadn't eaten today. you sighed, finding nothing exceptionally enticing, but figured you could make something with your very limited cooking experience. before long you had something that smelled half-descent simmering on the stove, while you cut some vegetables to add the faintest amount of nutrition. As your hands moved mindlessly, your mind found something else to occupy itself. you remembered last week, and what had been the headline of every news article and broadcast.

 

**Notorious Darling Killer Caught Red-Handed**  

 

the whole nation breathed a sigh of relief when that headline hit the news cycle, including you. You remembered calling your siblings to make sure they were watching the news, and wondering whether or not he'd receive the death penalty, but mostly you remember thinking how attractive he was in his mug-shot. you were disgusted with yourself when _that_ was the fist thing to come to your mind. you recalled how enticing his pale blue eyes were, how his black hair was half slicked back, half messy --you doubted the police were very concerned about messing up his hair-- and a charming smile playing on his lips. Though you seemed to be the only person in the whole of the country to find it so. you remembered an interview with the family of one of the girls who'd been killed. the girl was just a year younger than you, and had just gotten out of collage. you remembered the wave of nausea that came over you when they showed a photo of the girl, smiling at her graduation. you'd seen her before. you _really_   wished you hadn't found those leaked pictures. You began to wonder what kind of sick person could do something like that, and what must have happened to that Gluskin guy to fuck him up so badly...then You began to wonder what his voice sounded like, how his hands felt-

" **Dammit!** '

you winced, clutching your now bloody finger, the knife hitting the ground with a crash. There was now a deep cut on your left index finger, blood splattering across your floor as you hastily tried to stop the bleeding. you hissed in pain as you shoved your finger under the cool stream from your kitchen sink, cursing to yourself about how stupid it was to space out in the middle of cooking.

cooking. 

**shit.**

you quickly ran from the sink to the stove, almost burning yourself on the hot handle of the pot, moving it off of the fire. You tentatively stirred it hoping it was still alright. It wasn't.

you gave a frustrated shout that turned more into a pitiful whine as you realized that in your frantic rush to save your dinner you had left a trail of small red splatters all around your kitchen. you grit your teeth in annoyance as you returned to the sink, dumping the charred pot on your way. 

after you had properly bandaged your finger you returned to the kitchen to begin cleaning the mess you'd made, the whole time lecturing yourself about how stupid and avoidable this whole thing was. After the fair amount of blood that speckled the floor had been wiped up, you noticed the knife laying on the ground. You picked it up and moved to place it into the sink, but you kept your grip on the handle, almost as if your own body wouldn't allow you to let go. You stood there for a while, trying to force your grip to loosen, then you sighed and returned to your computer, knife still in hand.

you stared blankly at the screen, hoping something might catch your eye and distract you.

 

**Eddie Gluskin Pleads Insanity**

 

you let out on unintentional sound, half way between a laugh and an exasperated sigh. It had seemed to you that the "insanity" gone without saying.

You laid your head back against your chair, letting your eyes close and your grip tighten around the knife you had almost forgotten you were holding. A small sigh escaped your lips as you brought the knife up to your left wrist. you bit your lip as vivid, almost tangible images played behind your eyelids. you could almost feel his hands on you, as you laid there, slowly pressing the blade deeper against your skin in anticipation. You imagined his breath, hot against your cheek, and a deep growl in your ear, your fingers tingling against the cool mettle handle of the knife. You imagined teeth sinking into your neck, nails digging into your hips and you bucked forward unintentionally, a small whimper stuck in your throat. you could taste copper from biting too deeply into your lip and you imagined that's what he must taste like. you breathed heavy, lost in your fantasy, barely aware of the knife still pressed --harder than you meant for-- into the soft skin of your wrist. you breathed out deeply, your fantasy reaching its climax. caught up in the moment, the heat, the quiet pain promised by someone all too capable of delivering, you moved your hand, all at once pressing and slicing, aching for release.

oh god,

**oh my god.**

You hadn't meant to cut that deep. your eyes shot open, a strangled cry bursting from your clenched throat. You dropped the knife, attempting to stop the bleeding with your other hand. tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to take in the situation. it was a lot of blood. you tried to stand up but you only fell out of the chair, which came tumbling after you. You scrambled to stand and rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a roll a paper towels and frantically covering the gushing wound. it was almost instantly clear that this was doing approximately nothing. You tried not to scream when you realized just _how much_ blood you had lost. it was _a lot_. you grabbed your phone from beside your computer, almost failing to dial the number due to the blood coating your hand.

" **911, what's your emergency?** "

"oh god, please, I-I need help. I'm bleeding out... I-oh... oh god... please... h-help... I... oh my god..."

" **ma'am...ambulance has...dispatched. i need you t... keep talking... ma'am...ma'am?** "

 

You woke up in a hospital bed. Your head hurt like hell and you couldn't focus on anything. Sounds drifted in and out, and the room was white and hazy when you tried to open your eyes. you strained to make out a distant conversation, a mans voice, and another, more familiar voice.

"Attempted suicide... oh my god... will she be ok...?

"She should be alright in a day or two. But once she's responsive she will have to stay for a psychological evaluation."

"...do you have a recommendation about where we would...send her if that's what she needs? "

"well, of course it's ultimately up to her, but Mount Massive has a wonderful mild care sector."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  


	2. Like two ships, etc, etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the reader meets a celebrity
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> And fucks him
> 
>  
> 
> Almost

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, the full gravity of the situation hitting you as you blinked dumbly at the document in your hands 

 

"We regret to inform you that your request for discharge from mount massive asylum has been denied on the following grounds.

-The diagnosis of several potentially harmful paraphilias

-The person or persons responsible for admission have denied requests to authorize a discharge at this time

-Previous actions of the patient have proven them a danger to themselves and thereby unfit for release 

At mount massive asylum our primary concern is the health and comfort of those admitted, and to insure complete wellness before release.

 We thank you for your cooperation."

 

you flinched at the sound of heavy footsteps, screaming, and an audible thud. you kept your eyes trained on the bed, the small steel shelf, and the large bookcase that had previously decorated your small beige room —and that were currently serving as a barricade between you and whatever the fuck was going on out there. You pressed yourself deeper into the corner of the dimly lit room, wrapping your arms around your knees, sinking to the floor, trying to focus on controlling the sharp, rapid breaths rhythmically leaving your lungs 

"Help! Help!" The banging on the barricade was loud enough to make your head throb in time with every desperate blow to door. "For God's sake please just open the d-" more screaming. Another thud. Then —after far too many seconds of silence— a polite wrapping at the door.

"hello? Is anyone in there?"

you held your breath. His voice sounded gentle —at least, more so then anyone else who had stopped to shout and/or claw at your humble door— but, still, you didn't want to risk answering him if he was just another presumably escaped inmate.

"Please, I'm trying to help..."

You considered your options. On one hand he could be staff. Maybe he could help you get out of this hell hole. On the other hand, he could be another nut job waiting for you to open the door so he can do God knows what to God knows which part of you. You figured it was 40/60 leaning towards crazy, but it was worth a shot nonetheless. You tentatively stepped up to the makeshift barricade.

"Are you still there...?"

the response was immediate, "Oh my God, you're alive in there! Are you alright? Do you need help? I-"

"I'm fine. Do you know what's going on? It sounds like..."

"Look, there isn't much time. Please, if you come out, I'll keep you safe."

you paused. His voice was pleading and struck you instantly as sincere, though the thought of leaving the protection of your room set off alarm bells in your head.

"I promise."

after another few seconds of consideration, the sincerity in his tone had won you over.

"...alright... I-I just have to move this..." You mumbled as you began to push against the pile of furniture propped haphazardly against the door, "Please don't leave me." You added, a nervous panic rising in your throat that he may have already.

after your beloved barricade had been dismantled, you gripped the cool steel doorknob, trying to stare through the thick mahogany. In all honesty, you thought to yourself, it was probably more like a 30/70 chance of this guy being crazy. But what other options did you have?

you took a breath. He sounds fairly sane —well, as sane as one could be in a situation like this. How bad could he be?

you closed your eyes and threw the door open —in much the same way you would rip off a bandaid— Just to get it over with.

you opened your eyes and blinked dumbly, face-to-chest with a bloody patchwork dress shirt. This didn't strike you as particularly promising. You immediately felt hands on your shoulders pulling you closer and you threw up your arms, covering your face out of instinct.

"Are you hurt? Oh, thank God you're not hurt! You-...God, you are...Perfect..."

you still hadn't gotten a look at his face but you could feel him staring down at you, a hand trailing up your neck and pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Absolutely... Perfect."

You felt another hand intwined in your own, gently pulling your hands away from your face. Your stomach dropped, a painful scream catching in your throat and falling out as a sort of un-dignified whimper. This can't be happening to you. This _can't_ be him. You felt your stomach turn as he leaned in, towering over you, his breath, hot on the crook of your neck.

"Darling...you're so...beautiful"

you felt fingers trail over your throat, light kisses pressed against the underside of your jaw, then shallow breaths ghosting across your lips, half-lidded eyes staring expectantly into your own panicked expression. As your brain finally told your legs it was about time to start running, your back collided with the mahogany of the door you hadn't realized had drifted shut. You didn't even realize you'd been moving backwards. With you trapped against the door, he took the opportunity to tangle a hand in your hair, pulling you forward into a painfully aggressive kiss. He ground his hips against you, any gasp or sob you made being thankfully swallowed by his passionate motions.

When the kiss was finally broken it left you gasping for air, tears rolling down your cheeks, but before you could catch your breath his teeth were on your throat, lightly nipping patterns into the tender skin.

"E-Eddie!" 

You meant it in protest, you really did, but his name came out more like a strangled moan than a protesting scream. He only seemed to take it as encouragement. You felt his hands travel down your sides, sliding under the white cotton t-shirt you were permitted to wear. Then you felt his thumbs hook the band of your faded orange pants, and just as you felt a scream rising in your own throat, another scream rang out from somewhere in the seemingly endless maze of once sterile halls.

Eddie seemed to hum in consideration before lifting you up with alarming ease and holding you bridal style in his arms. You let out a sharp sort of squeal, arms reaching frantically to find his neck out of panic and for fear of falling.

 "As...eager...as I am for you, Darling, we really should find somewhere a bit more... Private."  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know if I wanted to end it here and risk having a short smut scene but...
> 
>  
> 
> Its five in the fucking morning I have to stop


	3. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking (comma) finally. Heh heh.
> 
> (I really hope nobody saw that I accidentally fucking posted this thing before it was even remotely near finished I mean fuck)

After a while of silent hyperventilating you noted how almost every other inmate you saw scattered as you passed. For a second you wondered if he was really _that_  famous even down here. Then it occurred to you that he'd probably already earned a reputation for violence firsthand. And if he was violent enough to scare these people...You glanced up at him.

 

you didn't want this.

 

His hair was the same jet black as in his mug-shots with the same pleasant smile fixed onto his lips, and even though he had apparently popped a vessel in his eye, they were the same piercing, unmistakable, entrancing blue that you'd fantasize about almost every night for months now. Though, you were fairly certain that the bloody gouges across one side of his face were new. As you were lugged around in relative silence —only disturbed by the rhythmic click of dress shoes on tile and the odd blood-curdling scream— you couldn't stop your mind from wandering.

 

You didn't want this.

 

You knew perfectly well, perhaps better than most— what Edward Gluskin did with the women he took. Every single picture and graphic headline waded through your skull, reminding you what your fate was, what would happen when You arrived wherever the hell he was taking you. the longer you dwelled on your thoughts, the more you realized that intermixed with the overwhelming urge to run and the paralyzing fear that stopped you from doing so was a small but undeniable feeling in the base of your gut.

 

You didn't want this.

 

you repeated it over and over in your head, hoping, somehow, if you thought it hard enough that it would become true. This wasn't right. It was just awful and horrific and disgusting. Before, you had considered yourself basically normal. It wasn't your fault the idea of being held down by a violent criminal excited you to no end, but you had always told yourself it was just a fantasy. You didn't _really_ want to be hurt. If it ever happened you'd be just as repulsed and traumatized as anyone else. You didn't want this. You weren't crazy.

oh. Wait.

"shhh. It's alright. We're almost home, darling." Eddie soothed, pulling you tighter to his chest and brushing away the tears you hadn't noticed streaming down your cheeks. You pulled your face away, desperate for anything to avert your gaze towards. You began to notice your changing surroundings. You had already descended a few flights of stairs, so the piss poor lighting wasn't very shocking. What did shock you however, was the countless pages of gown designs scattered across the floor, the incoherent —yet admittedly, relatively neat writing on the walls, and, best of all, the hand stitched dresses proudly displayed throughout most of the rooms. The thing that worried you most, though, was the smell. Metallic and rotting and everywhere. It made every breath unbearable and you struggled not to heave, especially when the rhythm of shoes on now wooden floor was accompanied by the subtle splash of what you had assumed to be gratuitous amounts of blood, or worse, the occasional, sickening crack of various body parts being unceremoniously trodden over.

When you finally saw a room with decent lighting you immediately wished for darkness again. You could see the silhouette of detached arms dangling from the ceiling above a wooden table and a bloody saw. A scream filled your lungs before you'd even realized it, legs kicking of their own accord, as if your body finally snapped out of the fearfully comatose state it had induced in itself. You had obviously taken the towering man by surprise as he tried to keep his hold on you. He seemed to somewhat understand your reaction and immediately attempted to calm you down

"Darling, It's okay! That's not for you! Please, don't- You don't need- God, just stop-"

your heal collided sharply with his jaw, and then your back collided sharply with the ground. From the hissing curses that poured from the man, you knew you'd hurt him. That was confirmed when he brought a freshly bloodied hand away from his sneering mouth. 

"Fuck...God...You...filthy, fucking _slut_!"

 His gaze snapped towards you.

You scrambled to run but his hand caught your hair just as you got to your feet. He yanked you backwards and you hit the floor again, this time head first. You couldn't force yourself to move, your vision going white.

"ungrateful whore! I offer nothing but my unconditional love and you have the fucking gall to- are you even fucking listening to me!? You little fucking...Darling... Darling...? God damn it, not this one..."

 

His words bled together too much to make out. You thought for a second that you were dying, but you can't keep a thought in your head long enough to worry about it. 

 

You muse about how this might be an ironic way for you to go, but the thought leaves again.

 

you wonder what they'll tell your family? You let that one go as quickly as possible.

 

everything was black.

 

you realized its because your eyes were closed.

 

You allowed your eyes to open slightly.

the room was dark, but not so much that you couldn't see. You made an attempt to sit up, but it was instantly obvious that that was impossible for a few reasons. Firstly, was the fact that your head hurt too much to move. Secondly, your arms were secured tightly above your head, and lastly, Eddie sat next to your bed, half his body draped across you as if he had fallen asleep while watching over you. You immediately tried to steady your breathing, not wanting to wake the monster of a man sleeping peacefully with his head on your stomach. It was, however, too late. His eyes opened and he shot up, his expression a mix of relief and manic joy.

"Darling! Oh, thank God you're awake! I was afraid you were... Well, never mind... Oh, God, how do you feel? Your head hurts doesn't it? I have some pain killers around here if you-"

He seemed to be taken aback the terrified look in your eyes. First he looked shocked, hurt even. But then He stood and quietly searched for the pain killers, returning with the bottle and a softened expression. He moved his chair up a bit so that he could hand feed you the pills, but it was obvious he just wanted to play with your hair, as he brushed it aside, twirling a strand around his index finger.

"I'm not angry anymore. It was a mistake. You're sorry. It's alright." He sighed, moving his hand to caress your face, "I know you didn't mean to. And I know the fairer sex can often get a little... Irrational. But it's ok. You just have to be more careful now. You don't want to be passing that kind of behavior on to our children." He concluded, placing a loving kiss on the top of your head.

"ch-children...?" You croaked. He hummed in agreement, a dreamy smile gracing his features. "Of course. As soon as those pain killers kick in-" "now!?" He laughed a bit harder than you thought appropriate, then moved to stroke your hair, half hooded eyes gazing into yours in adoration.

"I know it may seem soon, But we've already had —and worked through, our first fight." He took your face Into his hands, eyes still locked with yours.

"We're ready for the next step."

It was almost  touching, how excited he was. But then you noticed the red stains adorning his uncovered fingertips, and his white dress shirt, and his blue eyes, and this whole fucking place, dripping from the ceiling and seeping into the floorboards. You could feel the dried blood in your hair and the ache in your temple alerted you to the fact that those pills hadn't even begun to work. He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss onto still lips. He sighed, obviously a reaction to your lack thereof.

"Darling, Are you upset? Please, don't be. I'm sorry I said those things to you..." He rested his chin on your chest, an apologetic pout on his lips, "You hurt me. I was lashing out. I didn't mean a word." It astonished you that he could possibly think calling you "slut" was the worst thing he'd done to you today. Then it occurred to you where the hell you actually were. An asylum. You know, For crazy people. He moved closer, nuzzling your neck. "Please forgive me." 

Your breath hitched in your throat and you cursed the ailment that brought you here. After a few seconds of silence, he chimed up again.

"Darling?" He purred into your neck, obviously trying to illicit a sympathetic response.

It suddenly struck you that he could very easily loose patients with silent treatment so you decided you should probably start talking. It occurred furthermore that any negative answer could do the same. You took a deep breath, preparing to say whatever you needed to survive.

"..."

"..."

"..."

 "Darling?"

Shit. Ok. Your voice stuck in your throat to the point where you physically couldn't force out a word. You guessed you must be more scared of him that you thought. That's... Good? You could tell by his tone that he was already starting to get aggravated. You bit your tongue, trying to force out something, anything really at this point. You felt him tense up above you.

 

"Are you really _still_ mad?"

 

You could tell he was trying not to shout.

 

"I apologized."

 

just say something.

 

"God, I'm  _trying_ to make this work but you just insist on being such a...so Difficult." He was really trying, though it wasn't really working. 

 

He stood up. Oh, God please.

 

"Why are you doing this? I am _trying_ for you! For _us!_ "

 

now he was yelling.

 

"Do you know how many of the other sluts I apologized to? None of them. Why are you being so fucking-"

 

God, just say fucking anything!

 

"W-what about the wedding?"

 

it was stupid, but it was the first thing your mouth allowed you to say. For a second, there was no answer, and you weren't brave enough to look for his reaction. 

"I...is that what this is about? The wedding?" His tone sounded surprised and maybe... Amused? You decided whatever it was, it was better then the yelling.

"I know it's stupid...I just-"

"No! Darling, no, it's not..." He was back at your side, crouching down so he could look into your face, "it's just that none of those other whores seemed to care very much for the ceremony. It was just so disheartening. All that planning and work and for what? Just more fucking crying. And then with the priest off chasing another one of his disciples, I just... I didn't think you would...care..." He was absolutely beaming and you immediately regretted everything about this.

"God! I should have known! I said you were perfect, didn't I? God...Don't worry, darling. If you want a wedding you'll have one. I promise. If I have to drag that damn priest here by his rosary." He planted another kiss on your head and clasped his hand over his eyes in a sudden motion that scared the absolute piss out of you.

"Good God, you're going to need a dress! There is no way in hell your going out there in one of those other sluts gowns... I'll need your measurements and... Where the hell am I going to find all that white cloth? I guess I could recycle some of the _cleaner_ dresses... I wonder if Chris will show up..." He'd already stood up and was currently pacing the room, muttering to himself about the wedding arrangements. You cautiously watched him, waiting for him to call you on your bullshit, but he didn't. He just seemed happy.

Again, you might have found it endearing, if it was anyone else. Finally his pacing and muttering had led him towards the door as he made up the guest list of people who you assumed to be either fictious or dead.

"Uh, E-Eddie?" You called, just as he disappeared beyond the doorway.

"yes, my love?"

"umm...my... My arms?"

He popped his head back through the door, as if to see what you could be referring to. "oh god, that's right! I'm sorry, darling. I can't have you just waiting here, lonely, while I'm away." He laughed, patting his pockets, and then looking around the small room, you assumed for a key.

"Ha, yeah. So you're unlocking these cuffs, right?" You asked, pulling against the built in binds you imagined were on a lot of these old asylum beds.

He laughed again. "Oh, God, no. I've lost too many women that way. You just won't be waiting or lonely while I'm gone."

before you could register his words, he brought a small clear tube up to your face. 

"What are you-?"

 

You don't remember much after that. 

 

What you do remember is that when you woke up, your headache was gone. Which was nice, you guess. You don't know how much later it was but from everything that Eddie had accomplished it must have been at least a full day. He had already set up all the decorations —which you were pretty sure was already set up from his last botched wedding ceremony and the "guest list" which consisted of exactly three living people —one crazy Doctor and two _very_ naked twins who had already shown up and left, leaving you a severed tongue for your wedding gift. The rest of the guests were an assortment of limbs and other various body parts. And Eddie was just Finishing up with the dress.

Yes.

You regretted everything about this.

You sat quietly on the bed, rubbing your hand softly over your sore wrists. Eddie stood, fixing his bow tie in the large broken mirror on one end of the room, and humming some song you'd never heard before. It sounded nice, and occasionally he'd drift into actually singing a few of the words. It surprised you how good his singing voice was, even while just absentmindedly adjusting his tie. You noticed he sang especially clearly during one part.

 

"...just like the little girl I have in mind..."

 He glanced at you in the mirror 

"I will have to look around..."

He sang, turning on his heel, slowly, a hand planted on his own chest in an overly dramatic manner.

"Until the right one I have found."

He gestured to you with a slight bow, And you actually had to fight the urge to smile.

 

He kept his hand out, expectantly. It wasn't for a few seconds that you realized it was an invitation. You honestly didn't know what to think. Though for some reason —self preservation being the top suspect, you timidity reached out and took his hand. He pulled you in closer and faster than you had expected, causing you to trip and catch yourself on his shoulders, which he seamed to appreciate greatly, wrapping his arms around your waist with very little hesitation.

 

"I want a girl just like the girl that married dear old dad..." 

You swayed together slowly, the simple melody of the song tumbling from his lips in much too pleasant a manner.

"she was a pearl, and the only girl that daddy ever had..."

he was a lot taller than you. But suddenly it didn't seem so intimidating, as he leaned his head down to sing Into your ear.

"A good old fashioned girl with heart so true..."

he spun with the word, "heart", taking you very much by surprise and causing your arms to instinctually reach for his neck.

"one who loves nobody else but you..."

another spin the other way on "else", but you were ready for it this time.

"I want a girl just like the girl that married dear old dad."

he ended the song softly, but punctuated it by resting his forehead against yours, his bloody blue eyes searching for something in your own.

he smiled down at you.

you smiled back.

He held you there for a while, still swaying, and you'd hate to admit it, but you didn't mind too terribly. Finally, he sighed contently, that lazy, half lidded smile still clinging to his lips.

"Did you try on the dress?"

you sighed too, though yours was more an acknowledgment that the moment had passed then anything .

"yeah. It fits perfect." Your smile had already left, though Eddie's still hung on his features in a way that threatened to revive it. You stepped away from him, his arms falling away from you with less resistance than you had expected. "I suppose I should...y'know...get ready..." He hummed in agreement and returned to adjusting various parts of his blood soaked ensemble. "God, I can't wait to see you in that dress."

By the time you were finished you could already hear the wedding tune from the altar. Eddie seemed to have found someone to play. An other inmate from what you saw, and though you could tell he had skill, his fingers kept tripping and fumbling over the keys as if he was too nervous to play. And you didn't blame him. A part of you was terrified of tripping on the way to the altar and getting strung up for ruining Eddie's special day. You took a breath and made your way forward. 

It seemed the only living guest to show up was that doctor, Trager, you think you heard Eddie call him. The only other person to arrive was the man you immediately recognized as,"That priest", standing at the alter in front of Eddie. There was silence for a second, before Eddie snapped his fingers aggressively to get the attention of the poor man on piano, who quickly started up a sloppy rendition of the wedding march. You worried for a moment that Eddie might loose his temper, but he didn't seem to notice, as he hummed not-so-quietly along with the shoddy piano

When you reached him you could tell how proud he was. He did a good job on the dress, and he could tell you thought so too. Long, slim, one shoulder, no seams, the dirtier fabric was used as a light grey trim along a few parts, and some dead flowers weaved into the band of the vail, which to you, gave it a very "Eddie" like style. as the priest spoke you saw Eddie mouthing along to the words like he knew them by heart. You couldn't tell if it was endearing or alarming. Eddie said his "I do's" without hesitation, and you followed a little slower, then the kiss, then the clapping from the one living guest —along with a few teasing wolf whistles that you were afraid may trigger a less then positive response from Eddie. But Eddie seemed content, and before you knew what was happening, he'd already picked you up and headed towards the door. This time, when you wrapped your arms around his neck, you did so purposefully, not out of shock or a fear of falling. It made you smile, how inconsolably giddy he looked.

Then you remembered exactly _why_  he might be so giddy.

you hid your face in his neck in an attempt to cover your fearful expression, which he seemed to incorrectly interpret as a show of affection —though you couldn't say it wasn't meant to come off that way. His hand reached up to tangle in your hair, apparently very appreciative of _any_ physical contact you offered. You were vaguely aware of doors opening around you, but you closed your eyes tight enough to block everything out.

Everything except for him.

So that's what you focused on.

Him.

you preoccupied your mind by memorizing his slightly raised heart rate, watching how his hair stood on end when you trailed your fingers across his neck, counting how many veins you could feel on his throat with just the light touches from your lips.

you were teasing him.

'this is happening' was your thought process. You might as well embrace it. Try to make it easier on yourself. Though you admit that, in the back of your head, you were still fantasizing about a useless chase leading your inevitable capture and then to a _very_ violenthoneymoon, you really would prefer to live though your first night as a married woman. Your teeth scraped lightly up his neck and to his jaw, coaxing a long, shaky exhale through his nose.

God, he was satisfying to play with.

You laid your head on his shoulder, tracing your fingertips lazily across his jugular vein. Before you could do much more you reached another room, and felt him gently set you down on the exceedingly uncomfortable spring mattress. 

Now it was his turn.

he crawled over you, teeth immediately attaching to your neck harder than you'd expected in comparison to what you'd been doing. You couldn't stop the small protests and pleas as he nipped marks up and down your neck, though you're not sure if he didn't hear you or just didn't care or even if you wanted him to stop.

You brought your hands, shakily up to his chest, unbuttoning his dress shirt, surprised that he'd already removed his tattered vest. He pulled his head away from your neck to press his mouth painfully into your own, his teeth catching your lower lip hard enough that the sharp, metallic taste of blood intertwined between the two of you. You couldn't help the moan Escaping over your now parted lips and you cursed him for pulling away at just the right moment, letting the vulgar noise spill out unobstructed. 

He leaned back, allowing you to remove his shirt.

 

You paused, glancing up at him.

 

you reached up, your fingers following along the complex patten of new and old scars running down his torso. You felt him flinch when you lingered on the faint but recognizable cigarette burns just under his collarbone.

You didn't want to ask.

You could tell he didn't want to answer.

You pulled yourself onto his lap, and he went to work removing the dress. While his hands moved behind your back, his lips landed on the crook of your neck, more like a kiss then a bite this time. You let yourself sigh and drag your fingers through his  dark hair, his name dripping like honey from your mouth, earning you a deep, growling moan and another bite on your shoulder. After a few more seconds of progressively clumsier fumbling with back of the dress, you heard him growl again,

"...Goddamn thing..."

it was honestly cute how he was too flustered to even undo the dress that _he_ designed. 

"Here, Eddie I-"

"Goddamn it, I just- Fuck it." he spat, and before you realized what he was doing, the harsh sound of ripping fabric hit your ears. You didn't mind very much. But you _did_ mind a little, and that shocked the hell out of you. The other shocking factor was how fucking easily he tore through the thing. It made you realize how much stronger he was then you at this moment. He could do _anything_ to you. You let out and unintended sound at the thought, half way between a whimper and a moan, and Eddie seemed to pick up on it.

"Did you like that, darling?" He teased through more nips to your shoulder 

 You kissed his neck, hoping to hide your crimson face while simultaneously changing the subject. You felt his hand snake into your hair and yank you back hard enough to force out another pitiful whine.

"Answer me." He growled through gritted teeth.

"y-yes, sir." He hummed in appreciation at your answer, tearing the rest of the dress from your body, exposing you the the harsh air.

once you were completely undressed, he forced you onto your back, his hand firmly resting on —and pinning you down by your throat. You could feel him grinding against you, just a thin piece of fabric still separating you. you whined in protest of the offending garment,

"Eddie... God...Please, that's not fair..."

 He gave you that lazy smile again, breathing a short laugh, "It's alright, darling. Just be patient." He mocked, leaning forward to kiss your neck. You panted, whined, and begged, but he didn't return any friction. Instead he just held you down, his only motion being the rise and fall of his chest, along with the torturously slow, light movement of his lips on your neck. After seemingly endless minutes of his teasing you groaned in frustration,struggling to move under him,

"F-Fuck! Eddie, please-" you bucked upwards, desperate for any kind of friction. You heard him stifle a moan and you almost smirked— but that ended quite abruptly when you felt his hand collide with your face. Hard. It was hard enough to strengthen the metallic taste still lingering on your tongue. Before the ringing in your ears had even stopped, he grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were wide but you could barely see him through the terrified tears welling up in your eyes.

"I. Said. Wait." His voice was deep, and dangerous, and for the first time in a good few hours you wondered if he would kill you. You opened your mouth to apologize but it just came out as a pathetic sob.

Neither of you talked for a few seconds. Neither of you moved. You just laid there, obediently, too scared to wipe the tears from your eyes. Finally, he sighed, and you heard the rustling of his belt. A few more seconds passed and he was on you again. Slower, this time. He brought his hand up to your cheek, clearing away the remaining tears, gently kissing along your jaw. You felt his breath on your ear, his free hand holding your hips in place as he lined himself up. You bit your lip as he pushed into you, reveling in the long, breathy moan coming from the man above you. He stilled, letting you adjust to his size. When he finally began to move again, He cooed into your ear, whispering, praising.

"God...darling...you're so...oh, fuck, I love you..." He gripped your hair, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out soft moans in time with each movement of his hips. 

As his pace increased, it surprised you just how _vocal_  he was. He started out just panting with the occasional praise or declaration of love, but now, God. Both hands griped your hips, slamming you down onto him with every thrust, the word "darling" tumbling from his lips like a prayer. His head was thrown back, moans and growls and whimpers cascading down with every twitch of your body. It really was evident how quickly his mood could change. Powerful, dominate growls fading immediately into soft, needy whining. 

"f-fuck..ah...darling, please...I love.. Ah...ah..Oh god, you f-fucking whore..." 

You noticed Eddie's breath hitching more, his strings of loving words and insults becoming more and more incoherent, his large hands digging painfully into your hips.

God, that was going to bruise.

Soon, one of his hands left your hip, moving to your clit. You bit harder into your lip, a trickle of blood running down your chin, the friction and the movement and the heat pushing away any pain you might feel. Eddies mouth was on yours again, smearing the small crimson trail away with his free hand. You barely had time to squeak out his name before the rope coiling around your stomach snapped, forcing a strangled yelp from your lungs, your release triggering his. He cried out, and you felt a burning warmth fill your abdomen.

 

You both just laid there, panting.

 

once his breathing had evened out, he rolled over, pulling you with him so that you were laying, exhausted on top of him. There was silence for a while, but a comfortable, satisfied silence. He kissed your head, gently running his hand over the bruise already forming on one side of your face. He sighed deeply, fingers curling in your hair.

"I'll fix that dress for you, if you'd like."

you glanced up at him, your head resting in the middle of his chest. He had that smile again. God, you loved it. You moved up, planting a lingering kiss on his welcoming lips.

Maybe you did belong here. 

You were like two pieces of the same fucked up jig saw puzzle.

 

"Yeah. I'd like that"

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> there's almost definitely going to be a part two, so don't worry about it. I'm just kinda limited on writing time.
> 
> also this was written in like an afternoon and wasn't beta'd


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